Till Death Do Us…something
by Kagami Sorciere
Summary: Lydia's gotten accustomed to the world, has a career, and is now even getting married. Elsewhere, a poltergeist of dubious reputation thinks she's become a little TOO domesticated and calls in a previous claim, not minding at all to call everyone's attention to it. Rated T (for now). Strongly movie-based, with a smattering of cartoon mechanics/lore. (moved from movie cat to ctn!)
1. Chapter 1

**Some notes:** Finding Lydia's age in the film is a problem. In the cartoon she says she's in 7th grade, making her in 5th or 6th grade in the film (the last scene in the film with lydia's test results happens a year after the events of the film) and the cartoon begins a year after the movie came out. So she was either about 12, and then 13 in the cartoon. However, Winona Ryder herself was about 15 or 16 at the time of the film. As a compromise, I've called her age at 15 with her year at the girls school about 8th grade- just before high school. Why am I bothering to say all this? Because this story is set in Lydia's future with an exact date and I don't want anyone looking at me like I have five heads when time period gets detailed, haha. Thanks for reading.

* * *

She looked up at the ceiling. A couple months ago in a childish zeal, she'd bought a sheet of very sturdy glow in the dark stars and had begun to make constellations with them above her pillow. Pulling out her old astronomy books, she'd actually gotten a little excited about the task and tried to replicate on her ceiling what she had been looking at in her book. She traced the constellations with her eyes, counting each star as she passed it. Only a fifth of her ceiling was covered- she really should go back and pick up more sheets.

Finally, he rolled off of her. He took in a few deep breaths to catch up with himself before pulling the cover up a little over his chest. Lydia yawned and stretched, grateful to have space to move again.

"I think I'm gonna get some sleep now," she said with her eyelids starting to close on their own. She reached over to the nightstand on her side of the bed, grasping for her cell phone. It was new, in color even, and she took a bit too much satisfaction sliding the screen up and down to constantly check the time. 11:36pm.

"Oh, but Lydia dear!" a rasping voice said behind her. "I might want to…you know." She could hear the grin in his voice as she turned to face him. "Craig. It's late. And….you totally wore me out," she argued, adding a laugh at the end as an afterthought. He seemed to buy her compliment and raised a brow in an attempt to be seductive.

"Well you know, my dear….I just can't get enough of you." Craig leaned towards her again and Lydia raised her head to avoid his kiss. He took her neck instead, causing her to reflexively roll her eyes. She found herself staring at the constellations on her ceiling again.

"Craig…," she protested softly. He sighed, pulling away. "Ok, ok, you win!" he said, giving her a jokingly stern look. Lydia gave him a weak smile and started to roll over again when he put his hand on her arm. "But one more thing…before bed." Lydia muffled a sigh and plopped on her back, looking at him from the corners of her eyes. Craig raised a finger at her, and then turned, riffling through a bag he had beside the bed. Her eyes began to fully close when something velvety and a little cold was placed on her chest. Slowly she opened her eyes and saw a small jewelry box.

"Craig…" she said, almost in a warning tone. Craig propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her and seeming very pleased.

"Go ahead. Open it," he told her.

She spent some time looking from the box to him and back again nervously before picking it up and carefully opening it. Inside was a platinum ring with three large square-cut diamonds in a row protruding from an overly shiny setting. "Craig!" she shouted, lifting the box a bit to get a better look. Craig laughed.

"You know, that's the third time in a row you've said my name," he said bemusedly, "If only you were that keen when I…" He stopped himself from finishing as Lydia just stared at him, holding his gift in mid-air. Clearing his throat, he looked up at her through his brows and covered her hand holding the box with his own.

"Lydia Deetz…," he began. She continued to stare, her eyes wide and intense. They were so intense that Craig paused and considered waving a hand in front of her face to see if she was even still listening to him. He cleared his throat a second time. "Lydia Deetz…will you marry me?"

Lydia swallowed as she looked at Craig and her mind worked fast. Her face broke into a smile. "Of course! Of course Craig!" He smiled, and she decided that she should probably hug him. After several minutes of both of them looking over the ring and him pointing out all the highlights of the splendid craftsmanship, he encouraged her to try it on.

"Ohh, no, no, I couldn't," she replied suddenly. Craig frowned. "Because…," she continued, trying to glance at the nightstand behind her, "_Because_ if I wore it now, in my sleep, I'd probably put my eyes out with those huge, _beautiful_ diamonds, and that wouldn't make for a very lovely wedding ceremony, am I right?" she laughed nervously. Craig merely smiled and nodded. "Very well then. Anything for my ravishing bride to be!" Lydia beamed in return and quickly put the box on the nightstand.

Saying their goodnights, Craig turned off the lamp on his side of the bed and laid down to sleep, facing away from Lydia. Long ago he'd explained to her that ever since he was a child he could only sleep on _that_ side, you know. When Lydia suggested he sleep on the other side of the bed to make up for it, he said he could never put her out like that. Never mind the fact that the side of the bed he chose was the one she normally slept on when he wasn't here.

Lydia stared at the open box on the night stand. Stared at the three gleaming diamonds as they stared back at her. Letting out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding in, she reached up to the lamp and turned out the light.

–

"_yer breakin' my heart, hunny…._"

Lydia shot straight up. The deep, gravelly voice had been right next to her ear and her ear now felt frozen. She reached up, grasping at it and then laying her palm flat against it to try and bring some of the warmth back when she realized she was sitting in complete darkness. It was as if the windows were gone- no light pollution from the street could seem to find its way in. She strained her eyes to see when the voice came again.

"_gettin' married_….ughhhh, _man, I wasn't enough for ya?_" it said, cackling into the darkness.

Lydia frowned and dropped her hand to her side. "What kind of dream _is_ this?" she said quietly to herself. Suddenly, above her head, came a cartoonish whistle, far away at first, but the closer it came the lower the pitch dropped. Something was falling. Groping in the dark, Lydia felt behind herself and rolled backwards into nothingness when a massive baroque mirror landed in the exact spot she had been sitting in. The mirror was well lit although she had no idea how, and she saw her own reflection in her nightgown leaning forward on the balls of her hands. The mirror was wrought intricately in brass, but as she leaned forward just a bit to get a closer look, she saw tiny devils and dancing skeletons and large breasted women with flesh falling away from them covering the frame. They were dancing, dying, killing, even having very creative sex. The last one made Lydia lean back just a bit, her brows raised up in mild approval at the level of ingenuity. Her eyes were then drawn back to her own reflection. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a long, dark brown, but her eyes…her eyes looked tired. So, so tired. A pained look slowly crept across her face at this discovery when suddenly her eyes seemed to grow huge. They _did_ grow huge. Lydia gasped as her reflection grew eyes so gigantic that they birthed teeth and eyes of their own and streaked themselves with red and bulbous purple and appeared to press violently against the morbid frame of the glass for escape as Lydia flung herself backwards and the entire image in the mirror dissolved into a sickly green smoke. She started to breath a sigh of relief when she noticed that the smoke wasn't just inside the glass but was now making its way _outside_, and slowly curled its way towards where she sat. She inched away, falling back on her hands and almost crab-walking backwards when the smoke suddenly halted, and fell to the floor as dry green sand.

"_WOW! lemmy tell ya- you really have filled out, haven't ya? I mean, look at those knockers. those are an impressive pair. hey-_" it continued in its best cab driver voice, "_camman! give us a peek, eh? fa' old time's sake?_"

Lydia frowned and slowly began to shake her head as the voice broke into peals of rough laughter at its own joke. "No…" she whispered. The voice quieted down.

"_no, but really though, babes….._"

Lydia turned her head away from the mirror and stared at it narrowly as she tried to subtly pull her nightdress down. Silence.

"_you'll flash 'em, right?_"

Lydia's face lit up in revulsion as the voice fell over itself again in laughter. It seemed to draw closer as it continued, coming from all corners, and she raised her hands to her ears to block out the noise. Squinting her eyes shut she shook herself violently and suddenly found herself face first in short, rough carpet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Soo...is this just the wrong category maybe? Is the party over in the cartoon category? Because I can totally crash that party instead. Any advice, dear readers? Thanks to sm4567 for reviewing chapter one!**

* * *

She moaned, and gingerly used both hands to lift herself off of the carpet. Orange light streamed through the window, and as she squinted disoriented and still half-asleep up at it, a long stream of drool reaching from her lips to the carpet smeared itself across her cheek.

"_uhuhuh…that's hot._"

She slapped herself. Hard. Facing the carpet again, she stared at the floor, willing herself to focus, and shook out her head. Waiting in silence for several seconds, she risked rising to her feet, but nothing happened. She sighed and looked out the window. A car passed under the street lights through abandoned roads. It must be late. She walked over to the nightstand and flicked up the face of her phone. 3:58am. Craig lay sound asleep, oblivious to everything.

Lydia slowly lowered herself to the bed and dropped her head into her hands. Her palm smeared across some of the drool from before, causing her to reflexively wipe it on the skirt of her nightgown which she immediately regretted doing. She refused to get distracted and slid her palms up to her temples, desperate to recall what she'd just experienced.

_That voice_…. She'd heard it before. Where had she heard it? From the television? She worked desperately to think of every show she'd ever watched in the past five years. Nothing.

_The crassness_….She'd actually felt more disgusted than threatened. What did it mean when you had dreams where disembodied voices asked to see rather intimate body parts?

She shook her head, launched herself to her feet, and made her way in the dark to the living room.

Sitting on the couch, she turned the lamp on low and looked over her bookshelf. It was crammed full of manuals on photography, business, finance…but at the bottom lay a large purple volume with swirling silver designs that caught her eye. It lay stacked on its side with several other books on top of it. Sliding off the cushion, she reached down and finally managed to tug it free, knocking dust everywhere as she did so. Ahh, the dream book. She smiled. It had been so long since she'd pulled this out, not since Craig had teased her for looking at it shortly after they began dating.

"_What are you reading there? A book of dream meanings? Haha, come now, Lydia- you don't really believe in that sort of thing, do you?"_

Lydia sighed, and shook the recollection from her mind. Craig wasn't here. His opinion didn't matter right now.

She slowly cracked it open and began thumbing through the pages when she realized she wasn't sure what to look under. Eventually she found her way to E for 'Embarrassing Situations' where it listed out a series of possible scenarios.

"Not wearing any pants….," she murmured quietly aloud. "Speaking in public…spilling coffee on your boss….throwing _up_ on your boss…" Lydia raised a brow. "Caught…in the act in the office supply closet, or any closet….masturbating in public with a fruit or small...animal— What?" she nearly stopped reading when at the very bottom in tiny script she saw, "Being asked to show your breasts, for, _you_ know, fun." Her face scrunched up at the wording but she brought the book closer to her face in order to see better.

"Being…asked to show your breasts in public," she read carefully, "by strangers or even close family members in dreams is…nothing to be afraid of?" she read incredulously. "When given the opportunity, you should definitely do it…because…it just means those around you thinkyerreally hawtnstuff nyoushouldtotallyjustgive'emapeekc'monbabejustonceIpromise." Lydia screamed and slammed the book shut, throwing it far across the floor from her. She pulled her legs close to her chest and breathed heavily into her knees, careful to pull her nightgown down as far as it would go, and glared at the book on the other side of the carpet.

She stayed like that for what seemed like ages, just watching the book. Expecting something. Anything. Eventually, she brought her knees down and tucked her legs beside her. She tried to center herself while keeping an eye on the book, but the book just sat there, motionless. Finally, she decided that she had to check. Is that even what it had really said? She needed proof. Getting on all fours and slowly, carefully, never taking an eye off the book, she made her way towards it. When she was just within arms reach, she stretched out her elbow, extended her index finger, and quickly _flicked_ the cover of the book open with a small squeak and flinched in expectation. But again, nothing happened. Encouraged by the book behaving as a perfectly normal and ordinary book, she then dared to lean over it, and carefully, smoothly, flipped back through the pages to E when she realized she had skipped "Embarrassing Situations". She flipped back, but skipped it again. "Embarrassing Situations", the entire page for it, was gone.

Lydia flipped back and forth for awhile, convinced that she'd definitely run across it, until she was so overcome with frustration that she sat down in earnest, took the book in her lap, and turned to the index. _That page _had _to've existed_, she repeated to herself. When she reached the letter E, she lifted the book up and brought it close to better seen the fine print when suddenly the book slammed shut, smacking over her ears, _hard_, in the process. The large book rolled back, over her fingertips, and landed with a loud thud. Lydia passed out, cold, on her living room floor beside it.

—

A strong light streamed through the blinds and hit Lydia right in the eye. She twitched, her shoulder jerking, when she cracked open an eye and was nearly blinded by the strong, early morning sunshine. Flailing in a panic, Lydia tossed her hands above her head and rolled away, nearly impaling herself on the corner of the dream book. She winced, taking a moment to recover when finally she sat up. A blanket fell away from her and crumpled in a heap on her lap. She rubbed her eyes and looked down at it, trying to recall if in her sleep she'd gotten it for herself. Coming up empty handed, she shrugged and pulled herself to her feet. Coffee was definitely calling her name.

She padded into the kitchen, loaded up the coffee maker, and slumped into a nearby chair tucked neatly underneath a small, wrought-iron cafe table. She felt awful. Sleeping on the living room floor, however, was never supposed to be comfortable. How did she even wind up there? Lydia frowned into the glass of the small table as the coffee maker revved up its brewing. She had found herself in a dark place, she recalled. There had been a mirror, and her eyes...Lydia touched her fingertips to her brow for reassurance. But there had been something else...

As she strained her mind to think and the coffee maker got progressively louder, Lydia looked up at the wall of her kitchen to see a cringe-worthy-sized bug crawl up the dappled paintwork. A voice then filled her mind: "_you'll flash 'em, though, right?_"

Lydia gasped in revulsion. "BETELG-" she cried reflexively, and slammed two hands over her mouth as her mind caught up with what her lips had begun to do. At the interruption of the charm, the grizzly bug let out an impossibly high-pitched screech, hissed, and fell off the wall onto the floor. Lydia jumped to her feet, desperate not to lose sight of it, but it didn't move. It just laid there, on its back, steaming.

Slowly, she pushed the chair from behind her and stepped towards it. As she drew closer, the coffee maker beeped, and Lydia was staring down at a dead, reeking beetle.

—

She didn't move it right away. She was suspicious. What would happen if she touched it? If it was just an ordinary insect, what could actually happen? Grisly bugs just fell off walls every day. Some species don't do well indoors- right? She swore she'd read that somewhere.

She had pulled her chair closer to it and sat there, mindlessly stirring her coffee while staring at it nervously. The dialogue from the night before endlessly cycled through her head. _How could this be?_ she thought loudly to herself. _How could he come back? And how could he even find me out here?_ Some time after college, Lydia had made the decision to move back to The City to pursue a career. Little did she know how the career she had wanted would be taken and replaced with something else. Although that something else certainly made a lot more money, and had led her to Craig, she wasn't totally satisfied with it.

She sighed, slowly pulling herself together, and took a sip of her coffee, allowing her eyes to wander to the center of the table where she found a small postit note with a hastily scrawled note. She picked it up with a slight frown. "Found you on the floor. How did you get there? Left a blanket for you. -Craig xo" That was one mystery solved. Lydia rolled her eyes and flicked the note away to look back at the carcass on her kitchen floor.

It had stopped steaming and now just laid there, its legs curled into itself. She pressed her lips together and, putting down her coffee mug, stood up with purpose to get the dustpan and broom she kept tucked away beside the fridge. She returned and stood next to it, looking down with determination, before wrapping her arm around the broom and squatting down. She held the dustpan in place and began to gingerly push the beetle towards it. An awful miasma of rancid smells, almost spicy, erupted from the shell being shifted and Lydia turned her head, trying desperately not to gag and let the nauseatingly putrid smell into her mouth as well. She kept trying to sweep it in without looking when she noticed she had succeeded. She paused, and then looked back down into her dustpan. The beetle had flipped over, and its wings seemed to be spotted in a green, mouldering moss. Something bright red glimmered between its head and its torso, however, causing Lydia's curiosity to get the better of her. It appeared to be a seed, a bright red seed, in the shape of an...apple? Lydia rolled her eyes dramatically and scoffed, rising to her feet on the rush of adrenaline from her success.

"Really? Is that _really_ what you're trying to say?" she said loudly to the walls of her apartment as she marched her way to the bathroom. "I do not," she declared, dropping the broom from her hand. "Have," she continued, flipping open the toilet seat with a clatter. "Parental issues!" she shouted, tossing the deceased insect into the toilet bowl and aggressively pressing down the plunger. She held it down for several seconds with a scowl, watching it spin round and round till it was long gone. When the toilet recovered, she flushed it again for good measure. Then she flushed it a third time, this time putting sufficient amounts of toilet paper into the water to be sure. When she was satisfied, she slapped down the toilet seat and sat there in grudging, uneasy triumph.

"I just shouted at nothing," she mumbled into her hands, and took an exasperated sigh.

After about a minute, Lydia began to relax. She leaned back, taking in a couple breaths to collect herself, when the peace was shattered by the high-pitched ring of her cell phone. Lydia's head snapped in the direction of the door and a wave of unidentifiable foreboding washed over her. She ran through the door and into her bedroom, diving for the phone, and popping the screen up to answer.

"Yes, hello?" she said frantically. There was a pause.

"Uh...heya, Lydia! How's it going?" The female voice on the other end of the line queried casually. Lydia blinked and began to pace.

"Yeah, yeah, fine! And you?" she replied.

"Well, you know how it is..." the voice began. "What with work and all. Speaking of work, are you coming in today at all?"

Lydia stopped dead in her tracks as her stomach flipped over. "Oh my god..." she murmured into the phone. "Yeaahhhhh..." the woman on the other side helpfully added.

"Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry! I will be..." Lydia was pacing furiously now, almost putting herself out of breath, when she glanced out the bedroom door towards the bathroom. Although she had appeared to have successfully flushed the home invader down into the bowels of the New York Sewer System, where it would undoubtedly become some lucky rat's gourmet meal, she still didn't trust it. Her eyes flashed back to the phone in her hand. "I will be _right_ there. Please just give me 30 minutes, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, no problem," the woman drawled. "Just don't forget your slides for the 10:30 today."

_10:30?_ Lydia supressed a curse, offered another round of apologies, and hung up. She threw on something good enough to make better later and ran out the door, but not before sprinting back into her bedroom to grab a small, velvet jewelry box off of the nightstand.

"Taxi!" she shouted, waving furiously as she barreled through her front door and out into the street. A shabby looking cab pulled up and Lydia dove in. The whole car smelled like smoke and clashing spices.

"Whea to, lady?" the cabby wheezed. Lydia rambled off the address and sank hastily into reviewing her presentation and trying to put _some_ amount of makeup on.

As the taxi drove off, the cabby was unable to suppress a grimy, gum-diseasy grin. He lifted a filthy hand and pulled his soiled cap down even further over his eyes, flashing a gold and ruby ring, and stepped on it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Ships ahoy! Salty language ahead! Some characters are going to get mad this chapter. If the age-old song of the sailor offends you, you might want to skim through this chapter. Otherwise, on we go! (make sure mature filter is off!)

Thanks to Darkness, 4ever-a-nightmare, and sm4567 for their reviews, to the four individuals who followed, and to the three who favorited this story. Thank you!

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The cab jerked roughly to the left and then roughly right again in its escape from the curb, cutting off the car coming up behind it and creating a whole cacophony of noise as the offended vehicle and several around it honked their horns in protest. The cabby merely snickered to himself and glanced in the rear-view mirror at his fare. She was so engrossed in the papers she was tossing around her that she hadn't even noticed the bad driving. The corner of his eye twitched and he looked forward again just as the light at the corner turned red. Without speeding up, he sailed through the intersection to an even greater symphony of horned protest.

Temporarily leaving the traffic behind, he reached up and grabbed the mirror to check the back seat. The woman had now appeared to have made a veritable paper house out of her documents and was scribbling here and there busily in blue and red ink. For a moment he just stared at her- wielding a pen in each hand she was a document marking monster, panting as she went, and mumbling incoherently in what must've been a desperate bid to memorize everything. His grip tightened suddenly, and under the pretense of adjusting the mirror, he grabbed it bodily and clumsily spun it around several times before shoving it up into an utterly useless angle and dropping his hand to the arm rest. His long nails started tapping loudly on the hard plastic.

He heaved a long, drawn out sigh. He flicked his eyes back to try and get a good look behind him but it was to no avail. He heard nothing but the shuffling of papers and small whimpers coming from the back seat. He reached up and slapped the rear-view mirror back into place. "Man!" he nearly shouted. "Dis is some nice ass weatha' today!" he said, eyes glued to the mirror, desperate for a response as he flew through two more red lights. His hand curled into a fist of frustration as the woman didn't seem to hear him at all. He began to nod shallowly, and then more dramatically as he started grumbling to himself in a decidedly more gravelly voice. "yeah, yeah, ok, I see how it is, yeah- I've had enough of this shit."

The cabby slammed his fist into the cheap, hard plastic arm rest, cracking it, and wheeled the car into a tire-screeching turn into on-coming traffic while flicking the radio on to a heavy metal station and blasting it. Lydia screamed as she tumbled to the other side of the back seat. She'd completely forgotten to put a seatbelt on.

"What the _FUCK!_" she screamed as she fell ass-first into the space between the back seat and the back of the driver's seat. The cabby let out a cackle which was quickly suppressed and replaced with several heavily accented apologies. He grabbed the volume and dialed it down just enough to hear. "Oh! Oh no, lady, I'm sooo sorry!" he cried while dodging opposing traffic, then swerved into a sharp left turn that sent Lydia rolling face first into the seat she was now facing, spinning her right side up again and putting the car back into the proper flow of traffic. Her papers were now flying everywhere, floating even up to the front of the cab where the cabby plucked one deftly out of the air, straightened it, and flicked it elegantly on the side for good measure as he began to read. "well now, whatta we got here, uhhh...'In order to ensure a smooth growth of GDP in all viable markets, liquid funds must...for a higher gross rate in...exponentially profitable? what is this rat _shit_? don't tell me you're some stock broker bitch or accountant or some bs like that." he said incredulously, slamming the sheet down to stare into the mirror. Lydia had her back to him, her knees on the bench seat, heels in the air, as she grabbed at the papers that had gotten thrown up against the filthy back window. She winced at the volume of the speakers she had to climb over in order to snatch one particularly stubborn document that had gotten itself stuck in a corner.

"_really?_" he continued. He speared the paper in his hand on the spike of her closest heel and instantly went into another sharp right that cut it so close the car tilted sideways on two wheels as it rounded the curve. Lydia began to slide with her things when she held on tightly to one of the headrests as everything started to fly away again. The cabby slammed on the breaks and she went flying sideways into the back of the front passenger seat, smacking her head into it. With a twist of his fingers, he silenced the radio.

"and that," the cabby remarked. "is why you should always wear a seat belt, kids." He leaned his head against the headrest and laughed as he pulled out a pack of cigarets and lit one up, sucking at it smoothly and exhaling a series of smoke rings much to his own entertainment. As he was admiring his art, Lydia had gathered all her papers, tripping over and then de-lancing the one through her heel, and stuffed them into her bag, desperately throwing all of her things out of the cab as quickly as she could. She was breathing heavily out of both shock and frustration as he looked over his shoulder at her from underneath his tightly pulled cap.

"Ehhh, dat'll be $15.30," he called after her when it looked like she was finally ready to run away. Lydia stopped on the sidewalk, spun around on her heel, and fixed the man inside the car with such an intense look of disbelief and utter loathing that he almost considered telling her not to worry about it. Instead he went with just sitting there, grinning from beneath his cap, when she dug into her purse, pulled out a fist full of cash, and threw it into the passenger window. "Ayyy, nice doin' bidness wich ya! OH!"

The cabby looked down at the floor of the back seat and pointed to a small velvet box that the woman had left behind. "You leave som'n here?" Having picked up her things, Lydia spared the briefest of looks at what he was pointing at when her eyes widened and she shifted all her things to one side. She reached down to pick it up with her newly freed hand when the cabby's own grubby hand snatched it first and held it up in his palm for her to take. Lydia gingerly leaned in, and just as her fingers curled around the box his hand closed like a steal trap over hers, holding both the box and her hand hostage. She struggled to pull free.

"You son of a bitch!" she yelled at him. "The fuck kind of cab driver are you supposed to be pulling shit like this and THEN trying to rob me, are you out of your fucking mind? LET ME GO!" She was loud enough to start garnering looks from people on the street at the scene they were making, which the cabby noticed with relish as he laughed at her abuse.

When she reached a natural pause in her string of curses, he jerked her hand forward and stared at it intently. "so, you're really gettin' married," he stated in an overly familiar rough voice. Lydia gasped as the cabby popped his cap up revealing bloodshot green eyes sunken inside exaggerated dark circles, and a pale, crusty skin tinged with an unnatural green that sent her shooting backwards out of the cab. He let her go, jewelry box and all, and Lydia fell flat on her ass on the sidewalk with her things splayed about her. A terrible, cackling, and all too familiar laugh poured out of the cab as the passenger door slammed shut all on its own.

"Thanks for the booze money, babe!" he shouted over his shoulder, and gunned the car into traffic completely ignoring lane markers, sending two cars onto the sidewalk. The stereo blasted to life again as the filthy yellow cab fled from sight, leaving a heavy metal ballad echoing off the buildings in its wake- _"This is only a game, this is only a game..."_

There was no mistaking it this time. _No, _Lydia thought to herself._ I know what I saw. I know what just happened to me. _

He was back.

_Betelgeuse._

–

Her blood pressure spiked, causing her ears to ring. Or was it from slamming her head into the back of that seat? She didn't know which. The fact that her brain was trying to figure that out at all made a part of her deep down laugh at the absurdity of it. _After what just happened, _that_ is the only problem you're trying to solve, Lydia?_ she asked herself mentally. She was becoming a public nuisance now. Passers-by were deliberately tripping over her things trying to incite her to move off the sidewalk. Her eyes glazed in front of her, and she slowly reached a hand out to grasp her bags. After several seconds in slow motion, Lydia finally rose to her feet. She turned around, faced the large glass doors of the skyscraper in front of her, and allowed habit to take over.

She was there-but-not-there as she passed through the front doors and into the atrium. There-but-not-there, as she boarded the elevator and was oblivious to the poorly disguised stares of her fellow riders. There, but not quite there, as she passed through the glass doors of the firm she worked for, and paused at the secretary's desk in silence. The blonde woman seated in front of her continued to chat on the phone as a looming shadow hovering over her caused her to look up.

The secretary's eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped at the state of the woman standing in front of her desk. Slowly she reached up and covered the mouthpiece of the office phone and just stared.

"Marla..." Lydia whispered, wincing from the weight of her things that she hadn't shifted once since picking them up off of the sidewalk.

The secretary nodded slowly, mouth still agape, as she quickly dispatched with the person on the other end of the line and firmly hung up the phone.

"Lydia!" she gasped, and pushed back her chair to round the corner of the desk. Lydia's face momentarily flashed a look of anguish as everything she held dropped to the floor. Marla bent on reflex to catch it, but it was no use. The secretary just stood there, looking at her. On top of it all, Lydia's suit was now crumpled beyond the hope of an industrial press, and catching up with herself Marla gasped again, forcing Lydia to come to.

"Lydia! The meeting! It's already started! What took you so long to get here after I called? What...happened to you?" she asked in a pleading tone, and Lydia grew stone cold before slowly closing her eyes and slumping over on the desk counter.

"Lydia!" Marla whispered, looking back and forth around the office as people walking across the floor eyed them disapprovingly.

Lydia let out a muffled moan and tangled her fingers in her hair as her forehead rested on the counter. "Oh my _god_..." she mumbled. Marla had begun organizing the mess on the floor and smiled excessively at everyone who passed nearby in a poor attempt at covering up the scene.

"I don't know what's going on, Lydia," Marla began quietly, "But somehow you've gotta pull yourself together and get in there. Craig was having a premadonna fit that you weren't already in yet fifteen minutes before, and..." Marla looked up to see that her speech was having no effect on its subject. Lydia remained in exactly the same state as before. She frowned.

"Lydia...sweetie, what's happened?" Marla rested a hand on Lydia's shoulder and tried unsuccessfully to get her to take back her possessions. Suddenly, Lydia inhaled deeply and rose up, hair hopelessly displaced by her raking, and she stared with red but dry eyes at her friend.

"Marla, do you still have those cigarettes you used to stash in your bottom drawer?" she said calmly. Marla blinked back in surprise and laughed nervously.

"Haha, Lydia, you know I quit, honey...," she said in a sing-song voice while turning away from the people passing through the lobby. She continued in a hushed voice giving Lydia a stern look. "Why would you ask me about that? You know I don't have them! Don't you remember how hard it was for me to quit?!" she insisted. Lydia gave her a sympathetic look before turning down a corner of her mouth, arching a brow, and holding out her hand.

"Lydia..." Marla pleaded, trying to keep her voice down. Lydia didn't waver, and eventually an exasperated sigh and the scrape of a desk drawer indicated she had won. Marla plunked the 3/4ths empty box in the disheveled woman's hand. "I don't know why you're asking for these but I wish you'd tell me what was going on."

Lydia's mouth tightened and her eyes grew sad. "I know," she replied, and headed towards Craig's office. Marla sighed and sagged her shoulders when she realized she was still being weighed down by Lydia's stuff.

"Hey!" she called after her, lifting the bags in the air and pointing at them. Lydia kept walking and just waved as she passed through the glass doors of the biggest office on the floor.

–

Lydia sat in the executive bathroom sputtering over one of Marla's cigarettes when Craig entered.

"Lydia!" he scolded. He sounded like her father. She was not in the mood. "Where _were_ you for the 10:30 this morning? Didn't I say about a million times how _important _ this deal was? Marla told me you came into the office like the walking dead, making a mess, and-" he paused, looking her over. "You don't smoke!" he exclaimed, the declaration coming out more like disbelief than a statement of fact.

Lydia sat there, her leg bouncing up and down nervously when her eyes flared up suddenly with a mix of anger, fear, and annoyance. "I MIGHT!" she yelled back, and slid herself just far enough off the covered toilet seat to slam the door shut in his face and lock it for good measure.

She plopped back down, carefully bringing the tobacco to her lips and slowly inhaled, taking a deep drag before the smoke caught in her now inexperienced throat making her cough.

Craig merely stood on the other side of the door in shock. "Lydia!" he cried suddenly, and began shaking the door knob and banging loudly to be let in when he realized she had locked it.

Lydia did her best to ignore him, leg still bouncing like a champion thoroughbred in the race to escape hell. She took another lighter puff of her cigarette and let the smoke twist slowly through her teeth as she brought her hands up to her temples and began to rub.

"Think, Lydia, _think_!" she commanded herself. Closing her eyes, she began to hiss when the noise from Craig didn't seem to stop. Her brown twitched and arched ferally. Just as she was about to give him a piece of her mind about how he was only making the situation worse, a voice cut her off.

"wow, that guy is _worse_ than a poltergeist. I can't believe you put up with that shit."

Lydia stopped completely. She sat stone still on the toilet seat, staring at a fixed point on the wallpaper, silenced by shock.

"might wanna ash that, babe," the voice suggested helpfully as the end of her cigarette crumbled all over the top of her leg. Snapping back to reality, Lydia cursed profusely, slapping the ash all over the floor and off of her knee as a low, grating chuckle filled the room.

"too late," it said.

Lydia rose to her feet, shaking the last of the ash off her skirt for good measure, and then just stood there, staring at the wall in front of her, thinking of what to do next. She blinked several times to try and gain focus, and when the voice stayed silent, she decided it was her move. Slowly, carefully, she turned around, and faced the large oval, gilded mirror that graced her fiancée's private powder room.

There he was, his shoulder seemingly slouched against the mirror's frame despite the surface remaining perfectly smooth. She took a moment to look at him- his dirt-smudged black and white suit hadn't changed, his ragged, filthy hair still defied gravity...in essence, nothing had changed. His lip curled, clearly allowing her the pleasure of taking in the sight of him again, but Lydia frowned. She snuffed out the end of her cigarette on the corner of the counter.

"Don't even the dead change over time?" she asked after looking him over. His head jerked back in surprise.

"wull, whaddaya mean 'change'? we're dead- there ain't a lot to change, sweet cheeks," he snorted derisively, but her question seemed to throw him off a bit. She was now looking beyond him, past his shoulder, and into the shadows in the background. He quickly heaved himself straight and held up his hands to block the view.

"ah-ah! you don't wanna be lookin' too hard at any of that," he warned, cocking his head to the side. He glared at her menacingly and she backed up, hitting the wall behind her.

"an' I mean what the hell? two seconds ago you were about to blubber all over the crapper terrified of me and now you wanna know what's goin' on over here?"

Lydia's eyes grew wide. "Terrified...of _you_?" she asked, gritting her teeth. The ghost on the other side of the mirror smirked. Lydia's frustration flared and her eyes scanned the sink counter quickly. Picking up a plastic cup that had been left there, she threw it violently into the sink where it promptly flew out of the bowl, narrowly missing the mirror, and landed somewhere on the floor out of sight. Lydia stood there, fuming.

"Whoa-ho!" he said, trying to suppress a laugh. "is that supposed to scare me?" he said in a condescending voice.

"It's supposed to make you take the hint that I want nothing to do with you!" she shouted back. He threw back his head and laughed.

"And anyway!" she continued over him. "How are you even here? How can you even get to me! I read the handbook, remember? You are _not_ supposed to be able to do this!"

His laughing died down and he looked at her with a dark shine to his eyes. "somebody let me out," he answered, grinning broadly. Lydia gasped.

"_What?_ And didn't put you back?"

"didn't get the chance to," he replied, suddenly engrossed with shining his fingers on the lapels of his jacket. Lydia's face distorted in disgust and he looked up in vague surprise. "oh! no, I didn't kill him. car accident. nasty business. died on impact and-" he snapped his fingers in an arch and smiled ominously at her.

Lydia scoffed. "Huh, you really expect me to believe that? That _you_ had nothing to do with it." She began to pace the floor while keeping a fixed eye on the dead man in the mirror.

"again," he retorted, his voice tinged in frustration. "I'm dead. no point in changing, and no point in lying. not like there are actual consequences anymore..." he mumbled at the end. He inspected his nails, raising his brows high in nodding approval before looking back at her.

Lydia was now half lost in thought as she walked the floor and stared. With the conversation at an impasse and Lydia determined to hold it together, he met her gaze as she made her way back and forth, back and forth across the tile. He was starting to remind her of a wounded animal. The thought brought a slight tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Then why?" she finally asked pointedly. She stood there, finally still, looking at him squarely.

"because!" he said amicably. "my little Lydia seems to be gettin' hitched to some other jerk."

"So?" she shot back, raising a brow.

"now I know you haven't forgotten our little," he paused, taking on a more refined voice, "Élope-ment, if you know what I mean," he grinned devilishly.

Lydia blinked, wincing. "First of all, that is _not_ how you pronounce that word- your French is atrocious. And second of all, we did not elope. We didn't even get married. Period. _You_ got eaten by a sandworm. You remember _that?"_

His smirk fell slightly. "oh yea, I remember that, no thanks to _you_," he said, straightening his lapels.

Lydia's lip curled. "What was I _supposed_ to do? Anyway, what do you want? A wedding invitation? Because you're not getting one," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

He laughed quietly. "Nah babe, don't need one uh them," he said shaking his head, staring at her. Lydia sighed and rubbed her head in exhaustion.

"What...is it you actually want then? Come on, because this is getting old."

The ghost leaned over and his head bumped into the surface of the other-glass, smudging his forehead against it as he looked at her, watching her back away slightly on seeing the boundaries of the mirror at work.

"I got a previous claim," he said low into the glass. "you can't do shit without my blessing. and, well, frankly I'm not too keen on giving it." He watched Lydia's face as it morphed from incredulity to confusion to utter revulsion.

"What the _FUCK_-" she shouted. "Previous _claim_? What was I- traded for three goats and a mule? _Nobody_ has _any_ claim on _me_!"

He cackled into the glass. "you offering? not according to the netherworld, babe. we might not've..._done the deed_, or how should I say? gone _all the way_-" he laughed as she winced at his words. "but you agreed to our little bargain under the condition of 'le mari-age' so when it comes to that, you and I are tied up in all sorts of red tape, sugartits. Mmm, red tape..." he trailed off, and then began laughing at his own crude suggestions.

"What a bunch of bullshit!" she shouted louder. "I mean WHY! You're free now, right? Why would you even bother with this anymore? It's useless- pointless! You already got what you want!" she tried to reason, but he just grinned at her crookedly as his laugh died down again and shrugged.

"dunno," he drawled. "bored."

Lydia's eyes grew positively feral as she began screaming obscenities at him, an echo of that morning, and he just chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets and swaying like her curses were music to his ears. When Lydia finally wore herself out to a dull roar, she began pacing the floor again, mumbling to herself as he looked on.

"oh!" he exclaimed, making Lydia stop in her tracks. "What!" she fired back.

He grinned. "nearly forgot about him," he said, and mimicked turning the volume up on an invisible stereo. Craig's voice could be heard through the door again, only talking incessantly now, and his pounding had been reduced to firm knocking. Lydia gaped at the ghost in the mirror who had resumed lounging at an irrational angle against the inner frame.

"You turned him _down_?" she asked in disbelief.

"Well, I didn't think you _wanted_ the competition, y'know?" he quipped, and before Lydia had a chance to reply, he held up a finger.

"oh, and also this- have fun," he said roughly, and made a mocking bow as he stared up at her with a lascivious grin on his face. The lock on the bathroom door popped open making the door swing wide, causing Craig to nearly fall inside. Lydia dodged out of the way and looked at Craig wide-eyed. "Really?!" she shouted, pushing him out and slamming the door shut again. When she looked back at the mirror, the ghost was gone.

Lydia sighed at her own reflection.

"My hair really is a mess."

* * *

****A/N:** _This story has been moved from the movie category to the cartoon one as the cartoon one is lively by comparison. Sincerest apologies for any annoyance or inconvenience this causes anyone! :/  
_

_Thanks so much again for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _Hello, readers! Sorry this chapter is so late. To answer some silent and not so silent questions: Yes, this story is probably going to get a bit weirder before it gets...well, darker. While there might be some moments here and there, things really aren't going to get too fluffy, I'm afraid, but I don't think anyone will be disappointed. I do have a really interesting model for where I want to take things, so I hope you'll enjoy it as we finally start to dip our toes in as things build up. And for the second question, I'll be playing a lot with dialogue styles in this piece, so unless something really seems badly out of place, it's probably on purpose. ;)_

_I do wonder if descriptions in the story seem too much or too little at the moment, so please share your thoughts with me on that, or just on what you think so far. Any and all thoughts are very appreciated! A very special thanks to **nisan uzumakie**, **4ever-A-Nightmare**, and **violetrose** for reviewing and the one new soul now following. Thanks so much again to everyone for reading and reviewing! :D_

* * *

Craig's hand slipped from his hard-won executive bathroom door handle as he stared in defeat at the darkly varnished wood. He let out an exasperated sigh. Lydia had managed to lock him out for over half an hour, and even fetching the key hadn't seemed to help. At first, it was like it wasn't even the correct key. Every attempt to turn it in the door had failed. That was, until the door had flung open and Lydia had kicked him out again, much to his confusion. He huffed at the memory. When he tried the key again, it finally turned but she had only flipped the lock back every time.

It was clear she wasn't coming out.

Craig slumped his shoulders before collecting himself. If she wanted to be alone, he thought to himself, then that is what she will be. Putting his keys back into his pocket and grabbing his wallet, Craig casually made his way across the atrium and into the elevator, ignoring the glances cast his way. He pretended very hard not to care.

Arriving at his destination, he entered the canteen, purchased a cheap coffee, and stepped out onto a prettily upkept balcony lined with various plants and flowers. Finally feeling he was out of sight of prying eyes, Craig slumped against the wall of the building and gingerly took a sip of his coffee. His face scrunched up in displeasure as he forcibly downed the bad brew that was in his mouth.

"Chicks, huh?" came a raspy voice from behind a strategically placed rubber plant.

Startled, Craig instantly frowned and pushed himself away from the wall. A man of roughly average height rounded the potted vegetation and gracefully held out a hand. He wore a brown, rather ill-fitting suit, and a badly matched black bowler hat that was pulled much too far over his ears, almost entirely obscuring his eyes.

"Sincerest apologies for having startled you, my good man," he said in a lilting, cultured voice. Craig frowned slightly at the drastic contrast it made to what he could have sworn he'd just heard before, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind as he sternly took the man's gloved hand in front of him.

"A bit rude to hide behind shrubbery, don't you think?" Craig queried, trying to smile.

"Oh!" the man replied, quickly retracting his hand and folding them both behind him as he rolled back on his heels casually. "I hope it didn't _appear_ that way- oh no! I was just back there smoking profusely, you see? And didn't want to bother the rest of you respectable _individuals_ with the wretched sight, no!" He laughed curtly, before suddenly cutting himself off. "But I glanced through the leaves- you see- there, and thought I knew that look," he finished, smiling knowingly at Craig.

Craig had little idea what to make of this character in front of him. English but not quite English? The bowler hat is what gave it away, he thought. But no- perhaps South African? He was never good at these things the way Lydia tended to be. Deciding it would be too rude to ask, he merely forced a smile and nodded. "Well! You spotted it well then. Yes, I've...just had a small fight with my fiancée as chance would have it. Just thought I'd come out here for a breather and a..." he glanced down at his cup of brown sludge and tried to maintain his jovial expression. "...cup of coffee."

The man in the brown suit nodded emphatically. "Ah! Young love, yes, yes! But some young ladies can be quite troublesome, hmm? What is it, then? Spend all your money, did she? Call her mother to help plan the wedding?" He leaned in close. "Catch her sleeping with your best friend, hmm?" he laughed. Craig's face took on an exasperated expression.

"No, nothing like that!" he snapped, but quickly laughed to badly cover it up. "Just pre-wedding jitters, I imagine. Nothing serious." Craig cleared his throat and conveniently set down his styrofoam coffee cup in order to preoccupy himself with straightening the lapels of his suit. The other man gave a low, knowing laugh. "And I don't appreciate," Craig continued, "anyone speaking of her in that sort of manner. Especially a complete stranger."

The brown suited man laughed and spread his arms wide, walking up to Craig and suddenly hooking an arm around his neck, hugging him close to his side. "Ohh, come now, _come now!_ You're going to be _married_, aren't you? Isn't bickering and suspecting the wife _de rigueur_," he quipped in perfect French, "of a happily married life together? You should start getting used to it, ho ho!" he laughed, squeezing Craig around the neck three or four times with the crook of his arm for emphasis.

"I-I really don't think so," Craig struggled to gasp as the man started to lead him around the balcony.

"_Sure_ it is!" the man continued. "It might seem pleasant at first, but then the kids come along, you see? And the expenses start mounting up, and really after popping out two or three of the screaming whelps, well it's just not the _same_, I tell you! Down _there_, I mean," he motioned vulgarly. "Just not the same! And then later you find out about some sordid past, and all sorts of _'dead people in the closet'_ I think is how they call it nowadays..."

"Now just hold on a minute, I-"

"Nonsense!" the man exclaimed jovially, cutting off his prey with an unnecessarily tight squeeze of his arm. "I've seen it all before," he said in a sing-song voice. "Ohhh, the misery! The comedic _misery_ of it all! But at least the house should be clean, am I right?" he finished, poking Craig in the chest with his free hand.

Craig finally managed to yank himself free of the man's embrace and took several very generous steps back in order to pat himself down after being so heartlessly crumpled.

"Who are you, anyway? I've never seen you up here before!" Craig stated indignantly, patting out his suit pants and inspecting his jacket for any serious creases. The man in the brown suit seemed to frown- as much as Craig could tell from the pulled-down bowler.

"How utterly _rude_ of me not to introduce myself!" he cried, and dug deep into his pocket to pull out a yellow business card. "I'm the Exterminator. A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said with a slight bow.

Craig took the card and examined it narrowly. Scrawled on the front in big, 3-D-esque letters simply read 'The Exterminator' and a phone number. Upon flipping to the back, Craig had to pull the card close to even make out a handful of the things the stranger claimed to expertly eradicate. The list was tiny and massive. Flipping the card back over again, Craig nodded and looked up. "I see," he said simply.

"Yes, seems the 12th floor has something of an infestation and I was called in," he explained helpfully, grinning.

"My god! The 12th floor?" Craig said in disbelief. "That's one floor below ours! Is there any risk of something spreading, you think?" The man chuckled.

"Ohh, who can tell. This has been a strange season for pests, you see. But I think I should be able to take care of it...quite well," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up a bit. Craig, lost in thought, nodded as he looked at the card again and slipped it into his wallet.

"I should hope so," Craig added, looking up with a plastered on smile. "And with that, I really should be getting back to it. Best of luck to you!" he called, turning away as quickly as he could without seeming too eager.

"Yes, and to you as well!" the man called, waving casually as Craig disappeared through the doors.

Alone, the man in the brown suit sighed audibly, unbuttoned his jacket, and swiped up the intentionally forgotten cup of coffee. He snickered at the glass doors as he gingerly took a sip before spewing the contents all over the balcony. He glared evilly at the offending styrofoam before turning around and hurling it violently over the railing to fall into the traffic below. A series of horn honks could be heard wafting up from the street before an enormous _crash _as the man slid through the balcony doors and departed.

–

The office outside was still without Craig in it.

Lydia stood in front of the mirror, hands on either side of the sink counter, and sighed.

"This is ridiculous," she mumbled aloud.

She stared into and past her own reflection and thought hard. She couldn't stay in there forever. What excuse could she possibly give Craig? An assortment of cliché things slipped through her mind, quickly replaced by more elaborate explanations. None of it seemed convincing.

_'What a stupid, ridiculous day_,' she thought. '_Just...' _

Suddenly tightening her mouth, Lydia dropped her head, grabbed the knob on the faucet, and let the cold water run before splashing it all over her face. She aggressively pulled the pins out of her disheveled hair and, without even thinking about it, swung open the bathroom door and marched up to a nearby armchair that conveniently held her purse and other belongings from that morning. Pulling out a hair tie, she piled her hair up into a messy loop and slung her jacket over the arm of the chair.

She decided she was done and going home. She was starving anyway. Maybe she'd stop by somewhere to get something to eat first. Either way it didn't matter. She was going to leave, and whatever she did after that was her own business. It didn't matter at all.

She didn't bother to replace her jacket and just stuffed it into a bag full of now useless and meaningless papers. Lydia smirked. Hours ago those papers had been the most important thing in her life and now? She found it very ironic. She loaded herself up and walked confidently out of the office and into the atrium towards the elevators, going out of her way to smile at every person who dared to watch her cross the floor. Eyes quickly darted the opposite direction the second she matched their gaze, and as the elevator doors opened, they revealed Craig standing in the car alone. Lydia blinked in surprise and hesitated. However, ruffling back up her ire from before, she stepped into the elevator and turned to face the doors as they closed. Craig just stared at her.

"Lydia..." he began after the doors closed. Lydia closed her eyes and shook her head.

"No, Craig."

"Look, I know something must've happened this morning and-"

"I really have no explanation for you," she blurted out. There was silence but relief on her face at finally having said it. She glanced at him. "Really, no explanation. I just don't."

Craig pursed his lips and nodded in silence. "I know..." he began quietly, "that something must've happened this morning to have shaken you up so badly. But please..." he said in earnest, "tell me in your own time, alright? I...won't force you." Craig looked down quietly and shuffled his feet.

The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and they both stepped out, walking in silence through the busy glass-encased lobby. Lydia paused and put down her things. Craig nearly passed her but spun around and met her gaze. Lydia smiled.

"Thank you, Craig," she said. He blinked. "Of course," he replied.

Lydia let out a nervous laugh and timidly put her arms around his neck, drawing him into a hug. After a moment, he put his arms around her, too. "Are you going home then?" he asked. Lydia nodded against his shoulder.

"Yes," she said. "I think that's best."

"Won't you let me take you to lunch?" he asked hopefully, but Lydia laughed.

"No, I don't think so," she responded, shaking her head. Craig frowned into her hair as it threatened to hit him in the face.

"Well...alright then," he conceded. "But I'll be around later to check up on you, alright? Maybe we can go out later."

"Aha, maybe..." she said. As she was about to pull away from him, she frowned, sniffing his jacket.

"Craig..."

"Hmm?"

"Your jacket...I didn't smoke _that_ many. You reek of that and...tabasco shooters? Were you drinking?" she asked incredulously. She suppressed the urge to laugh.

"No, no!" he protested, pulling away from her. "No, there was this man in the canteen earlier doing extermination work on the 12th floor. He got a little...too friendly. I really don't know how legitimate he was, but his service credentials did seem impressive..." Craig cleared his throat awkwardly as Lydia gave him an amused look and nodded.

She picked up her things. There was silence again as they both stood there looking at each other.

"Well," she said curtly, looking around herself. "See you later then."

"Of course," he replied with a smile, and waved as she stepped through the automatic glass doors and into the street.

Craig sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He shook his head, looked up at the high, airy ceiling above him, and slowly made his way back to the elevators. Lydia stood on the sidewalk trying not to look behind her and attempted to flag down a taxi whose driver's face she could fully see. Satisfied with her choice, she piled into the back seat and headed home. Eating could wait.

She got comfortable against the seat and pulled one of the bags onto her lap. Reaching inside, she felt around for a small velvet jewelry box, but came up empty handed. Panic briefly shot through her. Where did the ring go? She opened the bag wide, nearly sticking her head entirely inside of it as she searched for the box, her mind quickly flashing through the scenes from that morning. The last place she saw it had been on Marla's desk. Marla's desk. She sighed a sigh of relief and slouched against the car door in momentary mental exhaustion. Marla had it, or Craig had it. One of them did, and that's all that mattered. That ring really was too expensive. She patted her chest trying to dissipate the sudden onslaught of stress when the car arrived at her front door.

–

Craig returned to his office and sat calmly at his desk. Things had gone better than he had anticipated , if he was honest with himself, and that had made him smile a bit. Still, for some reason that late morning's forebodings of the troubles of marriage courtesy of the strange exterminator in the ill-fitting suit began bouncing around inside his head. Trouble indeed. He gingerly sniffed the sleeve of his jacket. He wasn't even married yet, and day one of his engagement had seemed to be nothing _but_ trouble. Still, something had happened to his Lydia, hadn't it? He'd never seen that side of her before that he'd seen today. Smoking? That wouldn't do at all. He frowned at the thought. And the way she had yelled at him!

Something had happened, though. Something unpleasant. And while she hadn't told him yet, he was sure he could get her to tonight. Perhaps the milk had gone bad? Personally he preferred cream in his coffee. Or maybe she'd broken something at home trying to get out the door.

As he continued to try and come up with things that could've distressed his Lydia to such a horrible state, he spotted a small box on the edge of his desk. The engagement ring. Why had she left it? Craig recalled how full Lydia's arms had been when she left. He reached out and plucked the box from the desk and set it down in front of him. Carefully holding the bottom of it with one hand, he used to the other to firmly grasp the top and went to open it. The box did not open. Pulling a little harder, he tugged at the clamshell top but it didn't budge an inch. He picked it up, held it sideways, and pulled as hard as he could. It was almost certainly jammed shut. Gripping it in his hand, Craig sighed, giving up for now, and slipped it into his pocket to return to Lydia later.

–

Lydia had stripped off all evidence of her office job in favor of more comfortable clothing and sat on her couch, gazing out the window, and nursing a cup of peppermint tea. Just a quick sandwiched had sufficed, as her disrupted sleep the night before seemed to be catching up with her now. Her bed was calling.

She shuffled to her room and fell over dramatically onto her bedspread. Rolling underneath the covers, she gazed up at the constellations stuck neatly to her ceiling. She began slowly recounting each constellation one at a time as her eyelids got heavier and heavier. When her gaze fell onto Orion, she passed to the next one, but found herself back at Orion again. Orion. It hovered directly above her, at a strange angle, its shoulder right before her eyes.

_'That...wasn't where I put that,' _she thought through an increasingly thick and sleepy haze. _'That's...not where I put Orion. That's...'_

Her eyes brushed over the spot where it used to be when her eyes were drawn back to Orion's shoulder. She squinted, trying to focus, as the star placed as its shoulder seemed to glow. Dim at first in the sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains, it then took on a darker, redder shade, and began to pulse. It shifted gradually to a deep, blood red with its pulses slowly growing longer and longer. Lydia gasped, but it was impossible to keep her eyes open. Sleep snatched her away, and a steady light, like a crimson halo, clung to the ceiling over her head.


End file.
